Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, which is a true pity. Nor am I trying to obtain any monetary gain through this story. Don't make me waste my time litigating such a silly case. No, no. That was not a question. Don't bore me with details…

Special Thanks: tolaw_nerd for beta-ing this story. She really does put up with a lot. Also, thanks to Glo for pinch-hitting. I received a warm glow from your words—LOL…seriously, your feedback did wonders for my confidence.

Author Notes 2: This story consists of a Prologue, Seven Parts, and an Epilogue. If you like it, FEED THE MUSE!

Prologue

Miranda sprinted across the Parisian street to the fountain next to the Place de la Concorde and fell onto her knees beside Andrea. The girl was unconscious. Miranda had never run so fast in her life. Nor had she ever felt so frantic. The editor ignored the forming crowd, the paparazzi, everyone except Andrea.

Andrea, who had just walked away from her and thrown her cell phone into the fountain when Miranda had called her. Andrea, who had not understood why Miranda had had to take away Nigel's dream after arranging for him to obtain it. Andrea, who had chosen friendship and personal ties over ambition and making the hard choices. Of course, Andrea had made one hard choice. She had turned her back on Runway. On Miranda.

It didn't seem to matter right now.

She moved shaking fingers to Andrea's neck, checking for a pulse. Miranda felt relief course through her as she felt the rhythm beat steadily. Hearing a siren, Miranda looked up to watch people approaching. They looked like EMT's. They asked her questions she could not answer. She insisted on accompanying them as they drove to the nearest hospital. She took no notice of the cameras flashing or the reporters yelling out to her. She could only see a broken body lying before her.

Andrea.

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